Page 51 of The Bratva's Secret Twins

“Vivian, what the fuck is going on here?!” he said, raising his voice.

Tyler only cursed whenever he was extremely pissed or nervous. He’d been asking me all manner of questions, all of which I hadn’t answered. Now, his patience was wearing thin, and I didn’t blame him. He needed answers, and I wasn’t giving any.

“Just keep driving, okay, and please avoid areas with CCTVs,” I replied.

“Goddammit, Viv! Answer me!” He snapped, “How the fuck are you still alive, and what in heaven’s name have you gotten yourself into?”

I sighed, massaging my temples, unsure where to begin.

“Just say something, please,” he said, his voice lowering as he pleaded with his eyes. “I’ve been driving for almost half an hour because you said that I couldn’t take you home—but you haven’t filled me in on what’s actually going on.”

“I’m sorry,” I said to him. “I’m just not settled yet….”

Mentally, I was drained. All that running and driving had sucked the life out of me.

“I understand that you’re not okay, but I need to know what’s happening. Who are you running away from?”

I was quiet, watching him. I was afraid to say his name because I was traumatized, and I thought saying his name could somehow lead him to me. It was stupid, but I wasn’t thinking straight. That man had eyes and ears everywhere; he could find anyone anywhere in the world, and that fear was still in me.

“Viv, talk to me,” he begged, but I still couldn’t.

I was trying to speak, but the words wouldn’t come out.

“You know what, this looks to me like a case of kidnapping, so I’ll stop by the nearest police station and—”

He was still talking when I interrupted him mid-speech, “No!”

I grabbed the hand brake so quickly that it startled him, prompting him to snap and swerve the car off the road in a trice.

Once more, I pulled the hand brake and brought the car to an abrupt halt, inches away from colliding with an oak tree.

“What the hell, Viv?”

“No cops!” I declared sternly, looking right at him. “He owns some of them, as well, and I can’t risk getting caught again.”

“Okay, now you’re speaking in parables,” he said. “Who owns the cops? Who’s he?”

I finally summoned the courage to say his name. “Daniil Wolkov.”

“You say it like the name is supposed to ring a bell.”

“It’s the man I told you about weeks ago,” I said, trying to jog his memory.

“Wait, the Russian man from the runway show?” He raised his brows. “The one you said was hot?”

“Yes, him!” I replied. “Turns out, he’s a maniac who’s obsessed with me.”

“Okay, less complaining, more explaining. Thank you.”

“Daniil planned for me to be on that boat cruise because he wanted me to be there. The man sank the ship after he had me where he wanted; he did that so the world would think I was dead, and no one would think about looking for me.”

“What do you mean, he sank the ship?” Tyler gaped, his eyes widening.

“It means exactly what it sounds like, Ty,” I replied. “That report on the news…that was one man’s doing, all because of me.”

He let out a sigh, combing his fingers through his hair. “So, all this time, you’ve been with him?”

I nodded subtly.

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